Linden Hills is a delightful urban community in the southwest corner of Minneapolis.  It’s sort of a city within a city, tucked between two lakes, Calhoun and Harriet. In 2004 the Linden Hills Neighborhood Council (LHINC) decided it would be a good idea to have a neighborhood Poet Laureate -- to use poetry as one more way to bring the community together. I’m it.


We put on events -- poetry readings, slams and salons -- throughout the year.   Questions?  get in touch



This collection of 75 poems by 11 poets who live in the Linden Hills neighborhood of Minneapolis will make you laugh, make you think, break your heart and give you hope.


A great gift for anyone who likes poetry or has ties to the City of Lakes.  Perfect for birthdays, Christmas, hostess gifts, Father’s Day, Mother’s Day... and when the kids leave home... or come back.


Available at Linden Hills merchants or directly from Trolley Car Press.  $20 includes tax, postage, shipping and handling.  wilhide@skypoint.com


Click here to see selected poems.

POEM OF THE MOMENT

CONTACT US: wilhide@skypoint.com

AMAZINGLY GOOD POETRY FROM AN EXTRAORDINARY CORNER OF THE CITY OF LAKES

UPCOMING EVENTS


FALL POETRY PROJECT -- the Fall Poetry spread will be  in the October 5 issue of the Southwest Journal.  DEADLINE for submissions is September 8. Send your best work to wilhide@skypoint.com. To see earlier issues, go to swjournal.com, click on the “search archives” button and search for wilhide


The Southwest Journal

is a newspaper published twice a month for the neighborhoods of southwest Minneapolis.  I’m the poetry editor. Four times a year we print a two-page spread of local poetry and also put the poems on line.


To submit poems, send text to wilhide@skypoint.com or mail them to:

Doug Wilhide, 3019 West 43rd Street

Minneapolis, MN 554410


The next deadline is September 8.


The next Southwest Journal Poetry Project spread will come out in October.


To view previous editions, click on the link below and search for “wilhide”.


http://www.swjournal.com/index.php?section=84&publication=southwest



Fragments on my mind...


...standing on a corner/In Winslow, Arizona

And such a fine sight to see:

Its a girl, my lord, in a flatbed Ford

slowin’ down to take a look at me.

Come on, baby, don’t say maybe

I gotta know if your sweet love is

Gonna save me.

We may lose and we may win

Though we will never be here again

So open up, I’m climbin’ in,

So take it easy...

-- from “Take it Easy,” Jackson Browne, Glen Frey


Haze grey and underway/a world away from you... and miles and miles of blue.

-- theme from PBS show CARRIER.


I don’t want clever conversation

Never want to work that hard

I just want someone that I can talk to

I want you just the way you are

-- from Just the Way You are by Billy Joel


You can tell at a glance what a swell night this is for romance; you can hear Mother Nature murmuring low, “Let yourself go.”

-- from It’s De-Lovely by Cole Porter


Venus de Milo was noted for her charms.

But, just between us,

you’re cuter than Venus,

and, what’s more... you’ve got arms!

-- from Love Is Just Around the Corner, lyrics by Leo Robin.


I got the time and the place and the rhythm

All I need is the girl to go with ’em

-- from All I Need is the Girl by Stephen Sondheim.

© 2010 Doug Wilhide

When UPS Delivered My Vermeers       

Doug Wilhide



I heard the front door open and close

and the thud of a package left --

no signature required.  “Finally,” I thought,

“now where am I going to put them?”


It began, as these things do, with a conversation

about art and perhaps more than a couple glasses

of wine: What if we had money?

Lots of money.  Even more than that?


I’d go back in time -- say the early 1890s --

and buy what passed then for contemporary art.

I’d be constrained and responsible

so as not to upset any time/space continuums

or markets or art history majors,


No more than a dozen Monets, I said.  The man painted

like a machine -- turned out hundreds of canvases

that embrace the light and also the whimsy,

the youth in all of us, and the air.

Still.  One dozen.


I’d make friends with the little guy, Toulouse-Lautrec,

and buy the oils, the chalk-on-cardboard sketches,

and maybe some of the ads for the Moulin Rouge. 


A few Van Goghs:  the flowers, I think:  irises, poppies

and the sunflowers. Half a dozen Cezannes: still lifes

and those sun-filled scenes from the south of France.

Six Picassos:  I like the early Blue and Rose period

when he was still figuring out if he was as good as

the cracked mirror told him he was.


Several Renoirs:  boating scenes, parties, Parisian streets.

And a few of those Degas ballerinas, just to keep

the collection honest.


This was coming together nicely.  I had plans

for the gallery where my collection would be displayed: 

wide rooms, with real light playing on the pictures

so they looked different every day,

and well-polished, wood floors that creaked

just a little to prove they were as alive to the art

as you were.


We were about to go in search of more wine

when, out of nowhere, I asked,  

“Can I have a few Vermeers, too?”

That classic light, that constraint and passion,

That mystery and refinement.  That technique!

We agreed: they were mine.


So now they sit there, on the front porch,

Three canvases (or was it four?), and I’m slow

to go down and get them.


Brilliant they may be

but they don’t fit in my gallery

and I’ll have to call the architect to set up

a separate place to show them.

COMING SOON!


Our SECOND book of local poetry.  Over 100 poems representing more than 40 poets, with illustrations by WACSO.  A fascinating (and gorgeous) book! Look for it the end of September.